Ciao!
I started classes last week beginning halfway through Roman Civilization when I staggered in from Rome. Aside from Monday being one of the longest days ever, last week was relatively quiet. Getting into the groove of life in Viterbo has been a refreshing and invigorating experience.
On Tuesday our coordinator informed us that she convinced a pub owner to open extra early for us to watch President Obama’s inauguration. Italians eat dinner rather late—around 8:00 PM—so we were all grateful for the owner’s courtesy. At 5:30 PM we packed into Gianpiero’s and silently watched with praise and awe as President Obama was sworn in and delivered his inaugural address. I thought his speech perfectly fit the times and circumstances of his inauguration. Without fluffing up the state of our union, he promised to lead America in overcoming these difficult challenges moving forward. While his words lacked the pomp and elegance of many leaders’ triumphal speeches, President Obama used language that everyone can understand and a demeanor that everyone can rally behind. I must admit that I hadn’t shed a tear for America since September 11, 2001, but our president inspired the pride and determination necessary for a small salty drop to form in the corner of my right eye. Or maybe it was just the beer.
On Wednesday night I went on my first Viterbese bar crawl. First, we went to Lusca’s; a pub located in San Pellegrino, just around the corner from my apartment. Lusca is very friendly and likes to play Italian rock videos all night long. I would visit Lusca’s for the next three nights in a row. Then, we hit Shu; a small posh nightclub with great antipasti, music, and couches. Most impressive about Shu—aside from the beautiful, skinny ragazze behind the bar—is the bathroom. Unlike every other bar bathroom I have visited in Italy, this one had…wait for it…a toilet seat. And toilet paper! For some reason, every other bar lacks both. Also unlike every other bar, its sink faucet turns the water on and off like a normal faucet. Most pubs, I suppose, are way of drunken patrons leaving the water running and install sinks with foot pumps to turn the water on. These foot pumps all deliver the same temperature water—freezing cold. Aside from the remarkable presence of a toilet seat, toilet paper, and a regular faucet in this particular restroom, a large throne surrounded its toilet and a large wooden lion sits next to it. I imagine that sitting on this toilet may just make someone forget that they are sitting on a nasty bar toilet.
Anyway, enough about restrooms. After class on Thursday I managed to leave my debit card at the supermarket and not think about it until Saturday. I still haven’t solved this dilemma, but a small loan from USAC is getting me along well enough.
Post-forgetfulness, my friend Francesca invited me to join her and our new friend, Francesco (it’s as confusing as it sounds), to play calcio (soccer). I eagerly accepted the offer and met them to play ball. Unfortunately for me, I haven’t done any real physical exertion in quite sometime and was out of breath within thirty minutes. We had a great time though and went to Lusca’s for beers afterwards (2nd trip to Lusca’s this week). Francesco is an incredibly kind guy. He is twenty-four years old and pursuing his bachelor’s degree in environmental science. His home is Rome and he is my only friend in Viterbo with a car, which he drives exactly like all the other Italians; way too fast and using signs as suggestions rather than instructions.
Many of the USAC kids left Viterbo for the weekend; most to Florence, some to Paris, and a few to Rome. I opted to spend the weekend in Viterbo, taking it easy, saving my money, and learning more about life here. After
spending some time on the internet on campus, I befriended a few local students who were very eager to learn and practice their English before an oral exam on the subject. Gabriella and Elena invited me to grab lunch with them. I spoke in Italian while they spoke in English. Their foreign language was much better than mine. After lunch we grabbed an espresso, introduced me to their cane (dog), and gave me a ride home in Elena’s car.
That evening I met my friends Derek, Katie, Hannah, and Ken for dinner at a restaurant located directly under Katie’s apartment, whose owner is also her landlord. The best dinner I’ve had so far in Italy is the only appropriate classification. Cesare and his wife, Giovanna, brought out many different spreads and soups, each of which tasted fantastic. The main course was pasta (we were all too full/broke to order a meat course). When I say this pasta looked and tasted like spaghetti, I hope you will not misunderstand my comparison to mean that I think all long, thin noodles are spaghetti. This pasta was a bit thicker than spaghetti and cooked perfectly al dente. Tomatoes and onions were the only discernable vegetables in the sauce, but something tasted almost spicy. I dug through my sauce for a bit before finally concluding that the parmesan must have been the sharpest kind available. And I was right.
After revisiting Lusca’s (third night in a row) and Shu, Derek led us down an alley to a new discotech called Try. As we descended the stairs I could have sworn my ears were deceiving me, but when I entered the main bar area my suspicions were confirmed: a bar full of Italians were dancing and swinging to Elvis Presley’s Jailhouse Rock. They loved it! Next up was Ray Charles’ Hit the Road Jack, to which all of the Italians would mouth, “No more, no more, no more, no more!” All night American music from the 50s, 60s, and 70s played and the locals loved every minute of it. Nothing, however, prepared me for when every single person including the bartenders and bouncers sang and danced Y-M-C-A, pointing fingers included. When I went back on Saturday night I would learn that Try plays the same playlist every night in the same order. Locals knew the songs before they came on and they absolutely loved it. They love pop songs ala Doo a diddy diddy dum diddy do and have a strange affinity for the Blues Brothers. In addition to hearing Aretha Franklin’s Freedom in two different bars last night, Francesco had the album in his car this evening. Gotta love it.
On Saturday night we had a delicious potluck dinner at Derek’s. In addition to the USAC kids, there were Poles and Dutch kids there too, and one of my favorite new friends, Alvaro from Ethiopia. After dinner we all went on another Viterbese bar crawl to Lusca’s (fourth and final night in a row), Shu and Try.
Around 8:00 PM on Sunday, Francesca invited me to join her, Francesco, and her roommates Fulvio (from Calibri) and Michael (from Chicago) to visit the hot springs. A mere ten minutes from the city walls, this site is a true priceless treasure. The air was 3◦ Celsius as we ch
anged into our swimming trunks and eased into these natural hot tubs. After adjusting to the hot water and the strong smell of sulfur, I leaned back to see a sky filled with stars. Never before can I remember seeing a sky so full of stars. I laid my head against a rock and began taking deep heavy breaths of warm air. My ears fell below the water leaving only the sounds of my heartbeat and breathing to keep me anchored to reality. After a few minutes of gazing out into the universe I forgot I was even in water or in Italy; I was simply floating in the cosmos ever grateful for all my blessings. Soon enough, I floated back to earth and remained there for at least an hour before we all decided, “Andiamo,” (Let’s go).
We thought we’d go back to Viterbo and grab some pizza or something, but Francesco insisted that he cook for us at his apartment. He even let me shower all the sulfur off, as the hot water was temporarily off at my place (Brian hit the wrong switch by accident). I explained the colloquial meaning of “That hit the spot,” to Francesco and he drove us all home after doing all the dishes himself. What a guy, what a city, what a country this is.
I started classes last week beginning halfway through Roman Civilization when I staggered in from Rome. Aside from Monday being one of the longest days ever, last week was relatively quiet. Getting into the groove of life in Viterbo has been a refreshing and invigorating experience.
On Tuesday our coordinator informed us that she convinced a pub owner to open extra early for us to watch President Obama’s inauguration. Italians eat dinner rather late—around 8:00 PM—so we were all grateful for the owner’s courtesy. At 5:30 PM we packed into Gianpiero’s and silently watched with praise and awe as President Obama was sworn in and delivered his inaugural address. I thought his speech perfectly fit the times and circumstances of his inauguration. Without fluffing up the state of our union, he promised to lead America in overcoming these difficult challenges moving forward. While his words lacked the pomp and elegance of many leaders’ triumphal speeches, President Obama used language that everyone can understand and a demeanor that everyone can rally behind. I must admit that I hadn’t shed a tear for America since September 11, 2001, but our president inspired the pride and determination necessary for a small salty drop to form in the corner of my right eye. Or maybe it was just the beer.On Wednesday night I went on my first Viterbese bar crawl. First, we went to Lusca’s; a pub located in San Pellegrino, just around the corner from my apartment. Lusca is very friendly and likes to play Italian rock videos all night long. I would visit Lusca’s for the next three nights in a row. Then, we hit Shu; a small posh nightclub with great antipasti, music, and couches. Most impressive about Shu—aside from the beautiful, skinny ragazze behind the bar—is the bathroom. Unlike every other bar bathroom I have visited in Italy, this one had…wait for it…a toilet seat. And toilet paper! For some reason, every other bar lacks both. Also unlike every other bar, its sink faucet turns the water on and off like a normal faucet. Most pubs, I suppose, are way of drunken patrons leaving the water running and install sinks with foot pumps to turn the water on. These foot pumps all deliver the same temperature water—freezing cold. Aside from the remarkable presence of a toilet seat, toilet paper, and a regular faucet in this particular restroom, a large throne surrounded its toilet and a large wooden lion sits next to it. I imagine that sitting on this toilet may just make someone forget that they are sitting on a nasty bar toilet.
Anyway, enough about restrooms. After class on Thursday I managed to leave my debit card at the supermarket and not think about it until Saturday. I still haven’t solved this dilemma, but a small loan from USAC is getting me along well enough.
Post-forgetfulness, my friend Francesca invited me to join her and our new friend, Francesco (it’s as confusing as it sounds), to play calcio (soccer). I eagerly accepted the offer and met them to play ball. Unfortunately for me, I haven’t done any real physical exertion in quite sometime and was out of breath within thirty minutes. We had a great time though and went to Lusca’s for beers afterwards (2nd trip to Lusca’s this week). Francesco is an incredibly kind guy. He is twenty-four years old and pursuing his bachelor’s degree in environmental science. His home is Rome and he is my only friend in Viterbo with a car, which he drives exactly like all the other Italians; way too fast and using signs as suggestions rather than instructions.
Many of the USAC kids left Viterbo for the weekend; most to Florence, some to Paris, and a few to Rome. I opted to spend the weekend in Viterbo, taking it easy, saving my money, and learning more about life here. After
spending some time on the internet on campus, I befriended a few local students who were very eager to learn and practice their English before an oral exam on the subject. Gabriella and Elena invited me to grab lunch with them. I spoke in Italian while they spoke in English. Their foreign language was much better than mine. After lunch we grabbed an espresso, introduced me to their cane (dog), and gave me a ride home in Elena’s car.That evening I met my friends Derek, Katie, Hannah, and Ken for dinner at a restaurant located directly under Katie’s apartment, whose owner is also her landlord. The best dinner I’ve had so far in Italy is the only appropriate classification. Cesare and his wife, Giovanna, brought out many different spreads and soups, each of which tasted fantastic. The main course was pasta (we were all too full/broke to order a meat course). When I say this pasta looked and tasted like spaghetti, I hope you will not misunderstand my comparison to mean that I think all long, thin noodles are spaghetti. This pasta was a bit thicker than spaghetti and cooked perfectly al dente. Tomatoes and onions were the only discernable vegetables in the sauce, but something tasted almost spicy. I dug through my sauce for a bit before finally concluding that the parmesan must have been the sharpest kind available. And I was right.
After revisiting Lusca’s (third night in a row) and Shu, Derek led us down an alley to a new discotech called Try. As we descended the stairs I could have sworn my ears were deceiving me, but when I entered the main bar area my suspicions were confirmed: a bar full of Italians were dancing and swinging to Elvis Presley’s Jailhouse Rock. They loved it! Next up was Ray Charles’ Hit the Road Jack, to which all of the Italians would mouth, “No more, no more, no more, no more!” All night American music from the 50s, 60s, and 70s played and the locals loved every minute of it. Nothing, however, prepared me for when every single person including the bartenders and bouncers sang and danced Y-M-C-A, pointing fingers included. When I went back on Saturday night I would learn that Try plays the same playlist every night in the same order. Locals knew the songs before they came on and they absolutely loved it. They love pop songs ala Doo a diddy diddy dum diddy do and have a strange affinity for the Blues Brothers. In addition to hearing Aretha Franklin’s Freedom in two different bars last night, Francesco had the album in his car this evening. Gotta love it.
On Saturday night we had a delicious potluck dinner at Derek’s. In addition to the USAC kids, there were Poles and Dutch kids there too, and one of my favorite new friends, Alvaro from Ethiopia. After dinner we all went on another Viterbese bar crawl to Lusca’s (fourth and final night in a row), Shu and Try.
Around 8:00 PM on Sunday, Francesca invited me to join her, Francesco, and her roommates Fulvio (from Calibri) and Michael (from Chicago) to visit the hot springs. A mere ten minutes from the city walls, this site is a true priceless treasure. The air was 3◦ Celsius as we ch
anged into our swimming trunks and eased into these natural hot tubs. After adjusting to the hot water and the strong smell of sulfur, I leaned back to see a sky filled with stars. Never before can I remember seeing a sky so full of stars. I laid my head against a rock and began taking deep heavy breaths of warm air. My ears fell below the water leaving only the sounds of my heartbeat and breathing to keep me anchored to reality. After a few minutes of gazing out into the universe I forgot I was even in water or in Italy; I was simply floating in the cosmos ever grateful for all my blessings. Soon enough, I floated back to earth and remained there for at least an hour before we all decided, “Andiamo,” (Let’s go).We thought we’d go back to Viterbo and grab some pizza or something, but Francesco insisted that he cook for us at his apartment. He even let me shower all the sulfur off, as the hot water was temporarily off at my place (Brian hit the wrong switch by accident). I explained the colloquial meaning of “That hit the spot,” to Francesco and he drove us all home after doing all the dishes himself. What a guy, what a city, what a country this is.
1 comment:
get it bone
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